


Long Shadows

by black_tea



Series: Axis Mundi [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, M/M, Omegaverse, Pre-Slash, Sorry Not Sorry, Yes I am a weirdo, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!Scully, male!Scully, omega!Mulder, the plot bunnies made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_tea/pseuds/black_tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agents Fox Mulder and Daniel Scully travel to a small town to investigate a series of mysterious deaths. Between recalcitrant local law enforcement, Mulder's 'omega problems', and the town's over all backwards attitudes, the case becomes more difficult than simply figuring out what might be lurking in the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Town that Time Forgot

**Author's Note:**

> Ooookay, about this story... I did a rewatch of the series about a year ago at which time I considered the possibility of writing some fic. Only one problem - Mulder and Scully have great chemistry, but I seem to be constitutionally incapable of writing het romance. I thought about changing Scully's gender to male, liked the idea, but then did nothing with it. UNTIL I was brainstorming story ideas, thinking I would try fantasy instead of scifi for once. That didn't happen. Not only did the idea for an X-Files fic with male!Scully pop up again, but I had recently read some omegaverse fics that I had really enjoyed. I was doomed at that point. A giant evil plot bunny arose and thonked me on the head repeatedly until I gave in. So you, fine people, get this whacked out fanfic. Actually, I've had a great time writing it, even if it makes me giggle a lot, and it got me past what was becoming a serious writing dry spell. 
> 
> Oh, and just to let you know, there is a lack of boinking in this fic. Expect that in future stories (come on, this is the early part of season one, they don't know each other THAT well).

Mulder looked briefly at the pill resting on his palm. A small circle of blue, innocuous, unpretentious, and yet it was one of the most influential things in his life. In the lives of many, really. Just looking at it, the pill could have been for anything. Easily washed down, then forgotten about. Another medication in a time where taking some kind of medication was incredibly commonplace. But no, for omegas, male and female, living in the industrialized world, that innocent little blue pill was an education, a career outside the home, the chance to live the life of his or her choosing. Mulder considered it briefly before downing the suppressant. It wasn't part of any daily regime. Therophil was taken one week before the onset of an omega's heat cycle to allow the medication to build up in the body, then discontinued when heat had passed. 

Therophil turned what had been a miserable experience and massive disruption into no more than a mild annoyance. Because of this, he didn't toss the entire bottle in his suitcase. He took out a few and slipped them into a baggie that got stuffed into his wallet. Granted, therophil was commonplace – had been on the market for years, but considering where he and Scully would be going, he wasn't taking any chances. Out in the boonies there were still some places that refused to stock suppressants over the counter causing omegas to go through their doctor's offices to acquire the necessary medication. The number of those holdouts had been steadily shrinking, but still. Considering his partner's alpha status, he was better safe than sorry. 

He had even gone so far as to dampen his scent further with a pheromone masking body wash. It was going to be a long drive enclosed in a car together. He wished the timing could have been better, but his current physical state didn't concern him greatly. He had always managed in the past, and he had no doubt that he could do so now. His worry had less to do with he and Scully locked together like a pair of frenzied rabbits and more to do with being taken seriously. Mulder glanced at the clock. He needed to get a move on if he was going to meet Scully, pick up the car, and get on the road at a decent time.

Scully didn't seem to notice anything different about his partner until after they had slid into the confines of the car. Scully's nose flared and he glanced over at him. “I'm not going to bother you, am I?” Mulder asked, flinging away any embarrassment he might have after no more than a moment's consideration. They were working with each other in close proximity – it would be obvious to Scully no matter what, and he had found that it was generally better to be open about it. He'd rather a colleague feel comfortable distancing himself if need be, than trying to ignore his urges and potentially becoming a threat to Mulder himself.

Scully smiled slightly. “No, you're fine. Do you have any more details on the case?”

Mulder felt the tension ease from his shoulders as he pulled the car away from the curb. “You've heard about the disappearances in Shepherdsville?”

“There's been four over the past three months.” Scully supplied. “There doesn't seem to be anything obvious to tie them together. If this is a serial killer, he doesn't have much of a type.”

“Ah, you assume that the killer is human.” Mulder grinned.

“And you don't?” Scully was giving him that look, as if he preparing himself for his partner's response.

“The bodies were pretty torn up, and the marks look more like claw marks than a weapon.”

Scully gazed out the window for a moment in thought. “Hmmm. I'll have to see actual bodies. From the photographs there doesn't seem to be evidence of predation, and they were found closer to town than you would expect if it were a large predator.” He turned to face Mulder more steadily. “I suppose you have some kind of theory.”

“Like you said, I think we need to see the bodies, but this area has some colorful history. This isn't the only time people have disappeared in those woods. There have been stories about a creature that roams just beyond the town dating back nearly a hundred years.”

“It's likely that this is a depraved human that might be attempting to use legend to mask his activities or it really is an animal.”

“We'll see. Anyway, the local police haven't been able to turn up anything.” He was silent for a moment. “This is a fairly small isolated town. I'm not sure what kind of reception we're going to get.” Mulder admitted. Even though his heat cycle was relatively easy to manage and wasn't likely to be a problem for Scully, this was what worried him. He couldn't entirely mask the pheromones that were trying to play merry havoc. This meant his secondary sex would be obvious to any alpha or particularly sensitive beta. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Scully rested a reassuring hand briefly on his shoulder. That simple friendly touch caused a pang deep down inside, a gnawing desire for something his body and subconscious craved, but his conscious mind wouldn't give into. 

The clouds overhead stayed dull and gray, but the weather spared them from a rainy drive. They ended up stopping for the night at a cheap little motel. Only a few cars graced the cracked parking lot and Mulder wondered how many of them were paying by the hour. Still, they weren't likely to come across a decent motel for some time, and the air was beginning to feel more humid and threatening. The idea of driving through a sleety drizzle in the pitch dark appealed to him less than the motel's dubious quality. He climbed out of the car and stretched, relieved to be free of the cramped confines. Scully followed him inside to the front desk. The check in area was dim and decorated in uninspired browns and yellows. Still, the place seemed clean, and there was no bullet proof glass surrounding the check in area, which was also a positive sign.

The desk was manned by a bored looking paunchy man of indeterminate age. His eyes rested a few seconds too long on Mulder and then flicked to Scully. “You'll be wanting one bed I suppose.” He drawled out.

“Two rooms, thank you.” Scully cut in firmly.

The man raised an eyebrow and handed over two key cards. He thankfully kept further opinions to himself. 

Mulder briefly examined the two keys. “Ah, we're next to each other. I'm sure our friend at the desk considered it convenient.”

“Our friend at the desk should make fewer assumptions.” Scully sighed as they climbed a set of outside stairs with bags slung over their shoulders. “He could have at least given us a room on the first floor. They're hardly full.”

Upon reaching their destination Mulder handed Scully a thick accordion style folder. “Here's everything I could dig up on the case, including the previous disappearances. Sleep tight and don't let any bed bugs bite.”

“There better not be any bed bugs. See you in the morning.”

* * *

Scully closed the door between them with a mixture of disappointment and relief. He was confident in his ability to work along side his partner despite Mulder's heat, but after being in the car all day with the entirely too good smelling man, Mulder's current state was more than a little distracting. Scully set the files down on the bed along with his suitcase and switched on an extra lamp. The room was to be expected. He doubted the decor had changed since Ford was in office. On closer inspection, the lamps built into the wall on each side of the bed were oddly mismatched, one being a normal lamp and the other an actual faux candle. Scully's mouth quirked up in amusement.

At least the room seemed clean – no strange odors, no mysterious stains on the bedding and the heat worked. He slid out of his work clothes and into a t-shirt and sweat pants. The long drive had been tiring, but it wasn't that late yet. There was till plenty of time to look over the file. He sat down on the too soft mattress that promptly dipped under his weight and pulled out a stack of papers and photographs. 

The first bundle contained information on the recent disappearances – police reports, crime scene photos and several news articles from the local paper. There was another bundle binder clipped to keep its contents separate. Said contents contained yellowed news paper clippings from 1952 and a photo of one of the victims from what seemed to be a similar killing. Even older was a photocopied story from 1933 involving a missing young man whose remains were found a week later. Locals assumed an animal was the culprit, but no one was able to find any sign of one let alone shoot it.

Scully wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, but he sincerely doubted there was anything particularly mysterious going on besides the age old mystery of the human mind and soul and what caused it to do terrible things. The earliest news story could easily be written off as a run in with a wild animal whether or not local hunters had any luck tracking it down. The deaths in 1952 were harder to explain away considering that there were five over a nearly sixth month period of time. The town itself was small, rural and religious,with most of the churches present being socially conservative denominations. It had some local mom and pop businesses, but for anything else you'd have to drive a half hour to the nearest large town. The surrounding area was woodsy, but not known for large predators – mostly deer and coyotes. Scully carefully placed the contents of the folder back inside and sat back against the headboard. His thoughts flit from the information in the folder, to how likely the local police were to cause trouble, and to concern over his partner.

He was quite confident that Mulder could take care of himself. He wouldn't have been able to accomplish what he had if he was unable to handle his heat cycles. But Scully had to wonder... back when he was first assigned as Mulder's partner, he assumed, rather cynically, that the higher ups believed Mulder specifically needed an alpha to keep him in line. Discriminatory thinking that could land an employer with a lawsuit these days, but it wasn't an entirely uncommon belief. There were a lot of older people who still very much accepted the stereotypes that had been in place in _their_ youth. Now, however, Scully wondered if it wasn't anything so passive, but rather an attempt to trip Mulder up, to find an excuse to discredit or be rid of him. The same people who believed 'troublesome' omegas just needed an alpha to keep them in line were also likely to assume that omegas were weak willed entirely instinct driven creatures. In which case, throwing Mulder in a situation where he would be working one on one with an alpha had entirely different implications.

 _Is it an accident that we were given this case now? A little bad timing? Sending us out to a small conservative town that probably has close minded ideas on roles with Mulder going into heat?_ Scully shook his head, deciding that line of thought was a little too close to paranoia. It was doubtful that anyone would know the ins and outs of Mulder's heat cycles well enough to plan that one. Perhaps 'Spooky' Mulder was rubbing off on him a little. He smiled at that as he lay down and went to sleep.

They grabbed breakfast at a truck stop which like the motel, looked sketchy, but turned out to be surprisingly good, and then it was back on the highway. They first caught sight of Shepherdsville as they came around a bend in the road. Glimpses of the town flashed between trees whose high fall color had passed leaving many of them barren. They had left the main highway nearly a half hour before in favor of a wide two lane road that dipped and swung around the hills and little valleys. The promised rain had started to fall in the small hours of the morning and had now slackened to a cold, miserable drizzle.

The town was clearly down at the heels. It did not appear to be entirely crumbling away from poverty, but neither did it seem successful. There were nice old homes here and there, well tended and attractive, but many of the residences they passed were decidedly shabby. Shepherdsville's location was such that there couldn't have been a lot in the way of local business. They turned down onto the main drag with it's small shops, a diner, a bar and several churches. It was considerably more spruce, being the town center. The police station wasn't hard to find, there simply wasn't much there. 

The station was a small square building of newer vintage. A police car sat in the small side lot squeezed between the station and a second hand store. Mulder pulled in the spot next to it, and they climbed out into the chill. It was clear from the inside of the station that they didn't have much in the way of man power. It was also clear that the sheriff seemed less than pleased to see them.

“I'm Agent Mulder and this is Agent Scully.” Mulder introduced them, showing his badge.

The man's expression grew several shades darker. “Don't know why you'd come all the way out here. We're more than capable of handling our own problems.”

“I have no doubt you're capable, but it seems like you could use a hand. This has been going on for awhile,” Mulder said in a reasonable voice.

He grumbled something under his breath that Scully couldn't quite catch, but was clearly not complimentary. He closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to forcibly bring himself under control. He took a deep breath. “Look, I'm sure you didn't personally decide to trek all the way to Shepherdsville, but I'm an honest man, and I honestly don't appreciate government interference. For heaven's sake, they send people to 'help' and one of them isn't even in a state to do so.” He wearily rubbed his face. “Since I don't have a choice in the matter, I'm going to put officer Reynolds at your disposal. She's up to date on all the details. Reynolds!” he barked.

A lean blond haired woman appeared. She looked to be somewhere in her early to mid thirties, and there was no sign of belligerence on her face. If anything, Scully would've said she seemed relieved. “I'm Tanya Reynolds.” She smiled pleasantly I've got all the information you'll be needing. I expect you'll be wanting to see the latest body.”

“That would be very helpful.” Scully replied. Reynolds motioned for them to follow. “It's just a short walk. Not worth getting in a car for.”

“Don't mind him,” Reynolds said in a low voice as they stepped outside into the damp out of earshot. “He's pretty set in his ways. He's a good officer, though. Been real torn up over the deaths.” The rain had let up to the point Scully didn't bother with an umbrella. He followed their guide across the street to the city building – a structure that was a bit more modern than the rest of the town, though not in a particular attractive way. It sat, squat and ugly between to rather nice older homes. “Look, please don't take this the wrong way, but, I've always had a good nose for a beta.” She tapped the tip of said feature and glanced somewhat apologetically at Mulder. “And I ain't the only one. This town runs to the God fearing conservative side, and there are people with strong feelings about what alphas and omegas should be like.” 

“And what about you?” Mulder asked. “Do you have strong feelings about what omegas should be like?”

She grinned suddenly and shook her head. “Not me, I'm afraid. My daddy never did have much patience with the ultra religious types .” They walked around to a side door that would let them in at the basement level where the ground to the side and back of the building dropped away. Reynolds waved her key card in front of a small panel. The light briefly flashed green and she ushered them inside. “I'm just telling you this so you'll be prepared. Not that I think they'll do much beyond be unfriendly, not with you being with the FBI and all.” They walked down a clean bare hall, their shoes squeaking slightly on the linoleum. 

“You've lived in this town your whole life, what do you know about the previous unexplained deaths?” Mulder inquired.

“Oh, you mean the ones back in the fifties? Everybody knows about them, I expect. It's a small town. Most of the families have lived here for generations. Some people said it was an animal, some said it was a man trying to make it look like an animal attack. You'd have better luck asking some of the older folks. They could tell you more.” They paused outside the door to the morgue. Scully could tell Mulder was itching to ask some kind of question, probably one dubious in nature. 

“I've heard there are some interesting stories about the woods around here.” Mulder said, confirming Scully's prediction.

Reynolds' laughed, a warm pleasant sound. “Oh, there are always stories. This town has almost as many legends concerning those woods as they do bibles in the Main Street church. The kids like to scare themselves with them.” She pushed open the double doors. “Here we are.”

“Most morgues have been moved to hospitals.” Scully commented, feeling once again that this town was the place that time forgot.

“True, but the county hospital is a bit of a trek, and we don't get many unexplained deaths here. Granted after this, who knows.” She shrugged. “This is more excitement than we've had in forty years. Maybe we'll finally get with the times.”

“Thank you, Reynolds.” Scully said, and he meant it. It was nice to know there was at least one person they weren't going to have to butt heads with.

The blond woman nodded. “The medical examiner will be here shortly, I expect. You shouldn't get too much trouble from him, though if I were you, I'd let Agent Scully do the talking. I'll be seeing you around, I'm sure.” With a parting nod, she retreated out the door. 

“I'm starting to have such a good feeling about this place.” Mulder murmured. Scully was inclined to agree, but before he could say anything they were joined by the ME. He was a man who was drawing close to the end of middle aged - a bit gray, a bit soft about the middle, and he regarded them with sharp dark eyes. He seemed to be taking their measure, but what exactly he found, he kept to himself.

“You must be the FBI agents, I'm sorry, I'm not so good with names.” 

“Agent Mulder, and this is Agent Scully.” 

“Ah yes, that does sound familiar now. I'm Wasserman. I don't know what you'll be wanting to look at the corpse for. Been over it quite thoroughly already.” His tone was slightly disapproving, but not aggressive. Scully had a feeling they'd have to do a bit of tip toeing around his finer feelings.

“It won't hurt to have a second pair of eyes,” Scully replied calmly. He was certain that like Reynolds, Wasserman was a beta. While there were some betas who were about as sensitive as a brick when it came to matters of scent, many could distinguish an alpha from an omega or another beta. They simply weren't affected by the pheromones. 

Right now whatever Mulder had used to wash with had helped further deaden his scent. It was there, and pleasant, but not anywhere near strong enough to inspire rutting behavior in an alpha. Scully only hoped he wouldn't be needlessly written off because of it. “And it would help me get a better handle on the case. Crime scene photos only show so much,” he added.

Wasserman thought for a moment and then shrugged. “Fair enough. I take it you've read the report?”

“Yes, I have. It seemed very thorough.” In truth it had seemed very average, but it was clear Wasserman needed gentle handling.

“Alright then, here's the body.” He opened one of the compartments on the wall and slid out the contents. The corpse was ripped and slashed across the chest and abdomen. At first glance it was easy for Scully to see why someone might take it for an animal, but what kind? If pressed to say, he might've guessed big cat, but as far as he knew there weren't any in the area.

Scully's thoughts were interrupted by Wasserman. “Should you be subjecting yourself to this right now?” The question was, of course, directed at Mulder.

“Trust me, I've seen worse.”

Wasserman gave him a doubting look. “If you say so. I suppose you know your own business better than I do, but...” Thankfully he trailed off before they were forced to listen to anymore of his opinions. Though his presence was unneeded, Wasserman had the look of a man that wouldn't be going anywhere for awhile. He watched them broodingly as Scully puzzled over the wounds on the body. Finally the smaller man straightened.

“Thank you, I've seen what I need to for now,” Scully said, voice cool and polite. 

The medical examiner gave a curt nod. “Let me know if I can do anything else for you.” He made the statement sound grudging, and Scully had a sinking feeling that they were going to be spending as much time grappling with local law enforcement as they were actually investigating.

They stepped back out onto the street. “It looks like an animal, but not like any of the local wildlife,” Scully sighed. “Also there are no bite marks, only claws. Not much bruising either. It's almost too neat.”

“Oh, excuse me.” Scully stepped aside to allow a man to pass by on the sidewalk. He was older, but with a head of hair that was still dark, and he walked upright and brisk. He wasn't exactly good looking, but he had presence.

“That's quite alright. You're not from here, are you? I know most of the people in this town, you see,” he said, his voice deep and mellow.

“No, we're just here on business.” Mulder supplied. 

He must of put together their suits and the fact they were standing near the entrance to the morgue. “You're here about the killings, aren't you. That's bad business indeed.”

“What do you know about them? This is the fourth body.” Mulder was clearly eager to pick up any potentially useful local gossip.

“Not much that would be of use to you, I'm afraid.” Something about the man set Scully's teeth on edge, though it was hard to say what. If Scully had to pick one word to describe him it would be 'oily.' “This is a good town, things like this just don't happen.”

“Well it looks like they are anyway, and this isn't the first time.”

Something in the man's face seemed to close off. “That was a long time ago. I was just a boy then. I can assure you Shepherdsville is a good God fearing place where people aren't afraid to raise their families. People here just want to live peaceful lives in accordance with God's will. Here there isn't any confusion about the lives we should lead, no pressure to try and be something we're not.”

He looked Mulder over for a moment. “Look at you, you went into law enforcement of all things. What would inspire you to want to live a life like this when you could be home having a family like God intended?” The man's voice dripped gentleness and sympathy, and Scully felt his hackles rise. He patted Mulder on the shoulder with one meaty paw, friendly and completely and utterly patronizing. “This can't be much fun for you, having to hold everything in and fill yourself with drugs and chemicals. It's not natural.”

“And you,” he turned to Scully, “ought to know better than to drag this poor boy out here in his condition.” His calm, reasoned tones almost made his comments worse, and Scully wondered how their conversation could have taken such a turn. Defensiveness about the killings both recent and old? Well if he was looking for a way to redirect, he found a good one.

“My partner is a grown _man_ who can make his own decisions.” Scully's voice was a mere few degrees above glacial. This was truly ridiculous.

“I'll be sticking with my drugs and chemicals for right now.” Mulder broke in. “I'm sure God will understand.”

“It's not wise to mock the Word of God,” came the stern reply as he finally moved off. They both watched him leave with relief.

“Maybe I should start keeping count. It's like I have a flashing neon sign over my head.”

“Well, not a sign exactly,” Scully replied.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?”

Scully couldn't help but smile at that. “On the contrary.” 

Mulder sighed and then wrinkled his nose as if to try and blow out the scent of the man. “I'm sure he's not an alpha, but he's not quite like the betas I've met either.”

“There's a small segment of the beta population that have a heightened receptiveness to pheromones. Not enough to threaten a loss of control, but enough to be very attracted to omegas in heat. There have been some recent studies. They aren't anatomically different than any other beta, they're just more receptive to pheromones. There's one theory that having an alpha for a parent increases the chances of higher receptivity in a beta, but the sample sizes have been too small too draw any definite conclusions.” 

“So that guy's like a super beta. And just when I thought this place couldn't get any more appealing.”

“Thinking about settling down here with one of the local alphas?” Scully joked. “Think of all the money you'll save on suppressants.”

“I don't know. I'm not too fond of the weather.” 

“It's not so bad in the summer, except for the mosquitoes.” Reynolds reappeared behind Scully. “I have my business done, and now I'm currently at your disposal.”

Mulder turned towards the woman. “Who was that man?” He turned his head in the direction of the rapidly retreating figure.

“That would be James Barker. He's the minister of the First Church of God – the one down the street there. In it's hay day it was challenging the local Baptist Church for congregants, but things have fallen off a bit over the past couple of years. Times change even here. Just a bit slower. His brand of religion isn't quite as popular as it once was. They've got a decent sized group, but they have trouble keeping young people.” She dropped her voice a little. “He's been using the mysterious deaths to get people riled up and drum up some business.

“You think he could be involved?” Scully asked.

Reynolds snorted. “Him? No, at least not the way you mean it. I have a hard time seeing him killing anyone, but he's been a nuisance. There've been complaints about his congregants going door to door, and people think some of his talk is offensive. To be honest, it is, but that's no crime. Tomorrow's Sunday, if you're curious.” Something about the woman's expression and bearing didn't quite match up with the lightness of her words. There was tension in her shoulders that hadn't been there before.“In the mean time, I know where you can find Ms. Gilbert – she lives near the edge of the woods and reported hearing things that night.”

“That sounds like a start.”

* * *

The directions Reynolds gave them sent them back towards the main road and down several winding streets that took them away from the town's center and closer to the surrounding woods. The houses were spaced farther a part, and though not exactly falling down, more often than not they looked shabby with peeling paint, faded siding and overgrown yards now brown with fall. They were modest one story affairs most likely built after WWII to accommodate returning soldiers.

The Gilbert home was slightly larger and came with two plots. Part of one had held a garden before the cold weather killed off the plants. The yard in the back rose slightly and sat close to the line of trees where the land became wilder. They parked on the street and headed up the cracked sidewalk. Mulder knocked on the door and it was opened a few moments later by an older man who regarded them with suspicion. .

“Look, whatever it is, we aren't interested.”

Mulder and Scully pulled out their badges. “We're with the FBI.”

The man's expression changed to one of resignation. “Oh, I suppose you're here about the bodies in the woods.” He still hadn't moved from where he was blocking the door.

“We were hoping to speak to Mary Gilbert. We were told she heard something suspicious on the night of the most recent killing,” Mulder continued.

“Well, I suppose we don't have much choice in the matter,” he sighed, still waffling.

“We'll make this as quick as possible.” Scully spoke up. 

He looked at Scully and hesitated for one more long moment before nodding. “I suppose it can't hurt. Come on in.” He stepped aside and motioned for them to enter before disappearing to find Mary.

Mulder and Scully stepped into a cramped living room, the sofa, easy chair, and coffee table taking up most of the space. Mr. Gilbert reappeared shortly with a younger woman, most likely his daughter, in tow. “Mind if I stay?” It was stated as a question, but clearly meant to be a statement. Mr. Gilbert was staying put.

“I can't see how it would hurt.” Mulder replied. He would have preferred to speak to Mary alone in case her father was attempting to interfere, but decided that staying on the family's good side might get them farther.

Mr. Gilbert visibly relaxed and motioned for them to sit. Mulder took the chair, sitting on the edge while Scully took one side of the sofa and Mary sat down on the other. Mr. Gilbert remained standing, watchful, but not overtly hostile. Mulder guessed Mary to be in her early twenties, sort of pretty and looking very uncertain as she eyed him and Scully. Suddenly Mulder had a suspicion he knew why Mr. Gilbert was being protective of Mary, though it made no sense under the present circumstances – the girl was an omega. It was uncommon for women to not be betas, the omega female being redundant in terms of reproduction. However, they did sometimes appear. Mulder could only assume that Mr. Gilbert didn't trust Scully near his daughter.

“Mary,” he began. “We're investigating the deaths that have occurred over the past few nights. We were told that you heard odd noises?”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded shyly. “Yes, the night before they discovered the last one. My dog needed to go out in the middle of the night. Had to have been around two in the morning. I don't just let him out on his own after dark – he's just a little guy, and there are coyotes. I always take him out on a leash to do his business.” She paused, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. “It was coming from the woods out behind the house – some kind of weird cry. Didn't sound like any animal I'd ever heard, and I grew up near these woods. It startled me, JoJo's hackles went up, and he started barking like mad. I heard it again, closer and at that point I picked JoJo up and we went back in the house. It was the kind of sound that makes your skin crawl. The next morning one of the workmen at the construction site found the body.”

“There's a construction site near here?” Scully asked.

Mary nodded, carefully not looking at the man. “Yeah, if you walked back through the yard it would be less than ten minutes to it on foot, well, if the ravine didn't lay in between here and there. It's pretty steep. That's why the road to get out there loops around so far.”

She took a deep breath, and glanced briefly at her father. “This isn't the first time I've heard things out there that were unusual, just the most dramatic, I guess. I used to just assume it was my ears playing tricks on me or the wind, but JoJo's been funny about those woods for the past three or four months. They say dogs sense more than we do.”

“Have you seen any strange vehicles or people back there?” Scully inquired.

Mary shook her head, her gaze fixed on Scully's knee. “No, nothing like that. Just the neighbors. Sometimes kids'll go back there on a dare, but people tend to avoid it. It feels funny. Like you're being watched all the time.”

“If you think of anything else, contact Officer Reynolds at the police station, she's working with us on this.” Mulder smiled reassuringly. The atmosphere in the little house was becoming increasingly awkward. He was starting to regret allowing Mr. Gilbert to stay in the room. 

“OK, I will.” She smiled at him hesitantly. She looked for a moment like she was about to ask him something, but then checked herself. 

“Thank you for your time.” Mulder and Scully stood and headed to the door. Mr. Gilbert showed them out while Mary hung back. 

Mulder took a deep breath once they were back outside. “It doesn't sound like Mary heard a murder – at least not one perpetrated by a human being.”

“Of course without knowing exactly what it was Mary heard, there's no way of knowing what kind of animal it could've been. That's if this wasn't a coincidence, or that the local wildlife could have been disturbed by people in the woods. I can't see how this points definitively to any one explanation.” Scully pointed out.

“We might be able to put it into context later. We should probably grab some dinner and check into the motel.”

* * *

“What do you mean you don't have two rooms?” Mulder demanded, becoming seriously annoyed.

“Like I said, I can give you one with two beds. We have to keep a block of rooms open for truckers.” The woman behind the desk said. She stood with arms crossed, completely unimpressed with the two men. 

“You get that much truck traffic out here?” He asked incredulously.

The woman held up a key. “This is all you're going to get, take it or leave it.”

“We'll take it.” Scully cut in. He turned to Mulder. “There isn't anywhere else around here to stay.”

“This is getting ridiculous.” Mulder grumbled as they found their way to the bottom floor room. “I'm really beginning to wonder about this place.”

“Only just?” Scully asked with a small smile.

“They did this on purpose. There's no reason they couldn't give us two rooms.” He sat down on the edge of the bed nearest the bathroom. “People comment on status it happens, stereotypes exist, but I don't think I've had this many people bring it up since I was a teenager. This is extreme even for a small town. Something's going on here.”

“Do you think the killings are connected somehow?”

Mulder shrugged. “I don't know. Three of the victims were betas and one was an alpha. None of them seem to have a lot in common with each other.”

“Well, though I would consider the situation with the motel as a form of harassment, I don't think it will cause a problem. It's sad that they think it will, though.”

Mulder let himself flop back onto the bed feeling exasperated by the entire day. He had no doubt that something was going on, and it wasn't random run ins with wildlife.


	2. Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully begin digging into the victims' backgrounds and one of the town's more influential people. Meanwhile, petty harassment becomes more serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually on top of things and getting chapters done. I've been on a writing binge the past two weeks, but a lot of my free time is going to be eaten up this week, and the weekend isn't looking much better. Trying to finish as much as I can now. Only one more chapter left, and the rough draft is done and ready for editing.

“Is this going to be a place I'm not welcome?” Mulder asked as they stood outside the police station Sunday morning. If there was ever an opportunity to observe Barker and his flock in their native environment, it would be now.

“Nah, they'd love you.” Reynolds said with a grin. “As long as you agree to live all godly like they say you should live. Just like they love women provided they don't have sex out of wedlock. They are a bit confused by gay men who aren't omegas. Omega's are OK, because you all can be fruitful and multiply.”

“I think I'll leave this one to you, Scully. We can go take a look at the area the first body was found.”

“I think that's probably a good idea.”

He lowered himself into the passenger seat of Reynolds' car. “Unfortunately, the rain will have mucked things up a bit. Still, you'll get to see how everything lays.” She pulled smoothly out into the street. There was already a throng of people gathered outside the church.

“What do you think about Mary Gilbert's story, really? Do you believe any of it?” One thing had been very clear since they arrived yesterday. Tanya Reynolds knew this town, had been born here, grew up here, and never left. She knew a large portion of the population and a good bit of gossip and history.

She glanced at him, considering. “The world's a big place,” she finally said. “Bigger than you or I can probably imagine. Are there things out there that maybe science doesn't know about yet? Probably. Could such a thing exist here? I don't see why not. Is Mary's story real? I have no idea. She has no reason to lie, but this thing's got people on edge, so who knows. What about you, Mr. FBI man?”

“Like you said, the world's a big place.” She smiled at him in response and turned to gaze out the window at the shabby houses and overgrown yards. The road led them a bit out of town. It was probably closer than it seemed, but the topography of the land led them on circuitous route. She pulled off to the side of the road, and they got out and headed towards the thickening line of trees. The ground was still soft, but it wasn't as bad as Mulder thought it might be. They had walked for less than ten minutes when Reynolds called a halt.

“Right here.” She gestured to a spot cordoned off with caution tape now sagging and limp after the cold fall wind and rain. “We found him with his head towards that tree, crumpled up. You saw the pictures.”

“And there really were no signs of any tracks or foot prints?”

She shook her head. “Actually, that's what struck me as the strangest thing about it. The ground had been soft, but there wasn't a sign of anything aside from a few prints from the victim. Just Chester laying in his own blood. There didn't even look like there was much of a fight. And trust me, Chester would've put up a fight, even if he were drunk. Hell, especially if he were drunk.”

“And the tox screen was negative.” Mulder half said to himself.

“Yep. Chester liked to go out drinking with the boys on Friday nights. He never was into drugs.”

“Seems like an out of the way place for construction.” Mulder took a few steps up to the top of the ridge for a less obstructed view of what was obviously the construction site Mary had mentioned. It looked like the beginnings of some sort of warehouse like metal building. The area around it was mostly churned up mud from the heavy vehicles and rain.

“Oh, that's what's going to be the new manufacturing plant. There's a deal with some company out of Crowley - they're going to be making metal casters for them. They're trying hard to keep people here. If a kid goes off to school, most likely he won't come back. There's just nothing here for younger people. I was lucky and had an uncle that was a police officer. He helped me get this job. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sticking around.”

“You'd think Scully and I would have heard more about this. This is a big deal for the town?”

Reynolds shrugged. “If it does well. Every so often someone will try and get something started here, but it usually doesn't last long. It's not a good location. Truthfully, I think there was some backroom dealing to get this out here, and I know I'm not the only one who thinks that. Not to mention some people are just uneasy about change.”

Mulder pulled the map out of his jacket and marked the location of the building site as well the first and most recent crime scenes. Something was niggling in the corners of his memory. He needed to compare information with the 1952 case.

* * *

Scully sat at the back of the church in an out of the way corner. There were enough people there to hopefully mask his presence. He wasn't sure entirely why he felt so driven to secrecy, but he wanted to observe Barker in his normal surroundings, uninfluenced by the appearance of FBI agents. The ages of the congregants didn't escape his attention. There were older folks and families with children old enough for Sunday school. What there wasn't was young adults, or at least not many of them. _An aging congregation whose young people all leave when they turn eighteen. Definitely not a bright future for this place._

The church itself was a neat, attractive, building, well maintained and undoubtedly had a long history in the town. Scully could have enjoyed it just for the ambiance, but after yesterday's run in, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like what Barker had to say. Something about Barker bothered Scully beyond his attitude towards Mulder. It was a feeling, a hunch, a crawling sensation. Scully preferred to have some facts to back up his feelings with, and hoped to find them. He couldn't shake the sense that Reynolds hadn't said all that she did for just the sake of gossip. It was as if she felt it to, but like Scully had no reason to feel the way she did other than Barker was a deeply unpleasant man.

Scully's presence garnered a few curious looks, but no more than that. He kept his nose open, curious to know just what the make up of the congregation was. Not that he could go and sniff everyone there, but his senses were sharp. He'd be able to tell at least to an extent whether or not he was completely surrounded by betas. Every so often he'd catch a faint whiff of something interesting – there was another alpha somewhere in the sanctuary, and oh, there was a male omega sitting across the aisle, but he was quite young – no more than thirteen or fourteen, his scent had probably only just changed in the past year or two. He might not have even faced his first heat yet.

The service began much like any other. It wasn't until Barker began giving his sermon that things became interesting, though 'distasteful' would have been the better word. Barker had charisma and a fine speaking voice, there was no doubt. But Scully could easily see why the younger generation wasn't sticking around. Scully felt as though he had suddenly been transported back to the 1950s when truly effective suppressants with fewer side effects finally hit the market. Keeping to 'proper roles' was a favorite theme among conservative religious denominations as well as concerns about long term effects that had little grounding in actual science. Within ten years, suppressants had gained wide spread used, and pharmaceutical companies were making strides in developing reliable birth control for male omegas. All this just in time for he and Mulder's generation to be able to live lives not wholly defined by their secondary sexual characteristics. 

Barker, however, had never left the fifties and was still fighting the 'good' fight'. “Do you think the God who created us and wants what's best for us, intended that we should fill our selves and our children with chemicals? To subvert our natural places in this life? No, I tell you. He did not.”

_I'm sure God would want us to use our intelligence to improve the quality of people's lives._ Scully thought with some disgust. 

“If God had not intended for omegas to be child bearers, then he would not have made it possible for them to be so.”

He went on in that vein for awhile, and Scully carefully schooled his reactions. His audience seemed to accept all of this as a matter of course, minus a few bored looking teenagers. Scully felt a pang for the little omega boy. If his parents weren't going to put him on suppressants, his life was going to be hell.

“And it is up to us, the betas and especially the alphas to care for our weaker members, to make sure that they aren't steered wrong and tempted by the Godless lives so many lead today.”

It was so easy for Barker to talk when he never had to live the life of an omega – never had to be treated differently because of his biology. Never had to deal with all the silly assumptions, never had to feel like he was going out of his skin because the mating drive was all consuming. Of course most omegas took suppressants! Scully had about as much as he could take. Barker was an awful man, but he already knew that. He wasn't sure there was much left to learn. Just as he was considering sneaking out, Barker segued into a a more relevant topic.

“And don't you have any doubts that God sees our actions. For hasn't our town seen more than it's share of death? Not just now, but in the past too. When the good people of the town stray, disaster always follows.”

That was something a bit more interesting. Blaming misfortune on an angry god wasn't so out of the ordinary, but bringing up the earlier murders was a bit less expected. Had something happened in 1952?Suddenly Barker took on a slightly more sinister cast.

Scully left before the service was completely finished. He didn't want to hang around and get caught up in the crowd. Luckily, his back corner seat made for an easy and unobtrusive escape. There was no sign of his compatriots, so he wandered across to the diner to order some lunch. Scully needed to talk to Mulder and Reynolds. Mulder had gotten thoroughly sucked in to the town mysteries both present and past and Reynolds seemed to know everything that went on. She might not have known all there was to know about the murders themselves, but she would know if they happened to coincide with any major changes to the town.

The diner was mostly empty since most people had gone to church services and were staying till the end. The waitress was a friendly brunet who cheerfully handed Scully a menu and asked, “Where's your mate gotten off to? He's a cutie.”

That almost made Scully smile, it was so innocently meant. “My partner is with officer Reynolds. I just happened to beat them back.” 'Partner' could be taken multiple ways, and he decided it was best to leave people guessing a bit. Scully wasn't going to lie about their lack of a relationship, but he wasn't above letting them believe what they wanted if it would smooth things along a little. 

“It's a shame about the murders,” she sighed. “Things like that shouldn't happen in places like this.”

With the diner mostly empty, the waitress, her name tag read 'Bonnie', wanted to gossip. Scully was inclined to let her. “Did you grow up here?” 

“Lived here my whole life as did my parents.” She paused. “I know some people are saying it was an animal that did this, but if there had been a bear, people would've seen signs of it.”

“You think it was murder?” Scully inquired. 

“I don't know what it was, just not a wild animal. Those woods are spooky. Lot's of people like to hunt, but they don't go back to the area near the ravine.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice in a conspiratorial fashion. “Some things just shouldn't be messed with, you know.” She straightened. “I'll get you some coffee, we just made a fresh pot.”

Scully wasn't quite sure what to think of this information. In some ways it echoed Mary Gilbert's fear of the woods. It was natural, he supposed, that instinctive fear of dark, wild places. Still, it was an area fairly close to town in a place where most people were used to living close to nature. Mulder would undoubtedly interpret it as more proof that there was something out there, but Scully had a hard time completely wrapping his mind around the idea that there could be a creature deadly and powerful enough to kill an adult human male yet leave no sign of it's passing.

A short time later Mulder and Reynolds wandered in. “Mind if we join you?” 

Scully scooted over and Mulder slid in beside him with Reynolds sitting across. Scully smiled slightly in spite of himself, feeling oddly soothed by his partner's presence. He realized that Mulder smelled...different. It was subtle but definitely there. Before Scully could dwell on it further, his two companions quickly filled him in.

“And how was church?” Mulder asked.

Scully kept his voice lowered since people were starting to trickle in from the service. “Unpleasant. It seems Barker is stuck in the 1950s.” Considering their surroundings, Scully decided to wait to give his full impressions of the man. “I'll tell you more when we aren't surrounded by congregants.”

Reynolds nodded. “Might be wise. Nothing riles people up more than religion. We can go back to the station after this.”

Scully nodded in agreement, discreetly watching the crowd – it was no longer a trickle of people. Bonnie was suddenly quite busy. For the most part they were ignored, though he did receive one look of recognition, and there were a couple of people whispering to each other and occasionally glancing their way. The longer they were here and the more they were seen around town, well it was inevitable that people would talk. He quelled a sense of unease, unsure of what it was stemming from. 

He glanced sideways at Mulder who seemed a bit fidgety himself. Reynolds seemed perfectly at relaxed, scanning the crowd and occasionally bestowing a smile on someone she knew. They didn't linger long over their food. The little police station was quiet, and Reynolds led them over to her desk in the corner.

“Barker made it clear he thinks the murders are God's way of punishing the town for inappropriate behavior. He's using them as a way to scare his flock into what he considers righteous living. He alluded to the previous murders as well.”

“So you do think a human did this?” Mulder asked.

“I don't see how it could be an animal.” Scully conceded. “Granted, it's hard to see how a person did this either.”

“There is another explanation.” Mulder began. Scully steeled himself for what was about undoubtedly come next. “There have been stories about those woods going back to when the town was founded. Maybe there really is something out there.”

“If there was some kind of previously undiscovered animal, it wouldn't stay undiscovered for long living this close to people.” Scully interrupted.

“It may not be an animal. Folklore is full of different beings -”

“Mulder, I really don't think -”

“There maybe something to it, you know.” Reynolds cut in.

“Really?” Scully asked, surprised. Reynolds had always seemed more pragmatic than anything.

“I don't know if there's any truth to the stories, but everybody knows about them. It could be that someone's intentionally trying to give credence to them. Or if it is some kind of animal, maybe the construction got it stirred up, and now someone's using it as a sort of murder weapon.”

Mulder pulled out the now battered map from his jacket. “Here's the building site, and here's the crime scenes. They're all in the same area.” As he spread the map across the table, Scully caught another whiff of his scent, sweet and spicy and appealing. He shook his head as if to shake off the effect and forced himself to focus.

“Interesting all those people ended up out in an area where supposedly nobody goes.” Scully murmured. “And they were definitely killed there too, not moved.” He considered the map for a moment before turning to Reynolds. “Is there any opposition to the construction?”

“Hmmm...Some, but it's really just talk, nothing anybody is actually protesting. Some people are afraid that bringing manufacturing into the town will bring more outsiders and change the town. There are also some that are leery about disturbing the woods.”

“And Barker, what does he think?”

The police officer shrugged. “That I can't tell you exactly. He says we need more business in town to keep the kids from leaving, but he doesn't like change. This might be more business than he was counting on.”

“And back in 1952, was there anything interesting going on in town then?” Mulder asked, clearly on the same wavelength. 

“That's easy enough to look up.” Reynolds quickly logged on to her computer. “I think that was the year the old Conner place was torn down, but I don't know for sure. Yep, there it is, 1952. It was a big deal – the Conners where one of the more well to do families in town, but they fell on hard times and couldn't keep the property up. It ended up being purchased and torn down to make way for a factory, but it never got built. The deal fell through somehow.”

Mulder scratched down some dates. “Interesting how the killings then started a few weeks after the Conner place was demolished.”

“No one really found a connection between the victims then, they seemed random aside from one.” Reynolds said. She pulled a file from her desk drawer and began rifling through the papers. “Ben Garrison, aged 28. He was big on proper sex education and access to suppressants and birth control. He would've definitely caused a stir at the time. It wouldn't surprise me to find out he had some enemies. There wasn't an obvious connection between him and the other victims. One was a local drunk, the other three seemed to be pretty average.”

Mulder turned to Scully. “It's a pretty big coincidence that people only start dying when those woods end up disturbed.”

“There is some truth to that.” Reynolds agreed. “Most of the crime around here involves petty theft or the occasional domestic disturbance or drunk and disorderly.”

“The X-Files have plenty of examples of phenomena caused by beings currently unknown by science who appear to be attached to particular pieces of land. You said it yourself, Scully, the wounds look like an animal, but nothing that you would find here. Mary Gilbert heard strange inhuman sounds that don't match up with the local wildlife. The same killings reoccur only when a specific piece of land is disturbed.”

“Mulder, I think we need to look at what we do actually know before immediately assuming there is some kind of creature or spirit in the woods. One question that I want answered is why the victims were wandering around out there in the middle of the night. That doesn't sound like something they'd do for no reason. That suggests to me that on some level there is human involvement. Someone took them or lured them out there. If we figure out why and who, we'll start getting our answers.”

“Well we have Chester Owingsby, male beta aged 26. Worked at the gas station out by 42. Single, one arrest for disorderly conduct, but no serious trouble. Then there's Rachel Cummins, female beta aged 39. She was a stay at home mother, married with three kids. No police record. No relation to any of the Owingsbys. Darren Redmond, male alpha aged 33. Single, was working out near Crowly at a car dealership. No record, no relation to Chester or Rachel. And last, but not least – Lisa Mallory. She was a 44 year old nurse practitioner. She was divorced, but her ex-husband is living in Florida, and there was no history of abuse in their relationship. She had no police record and no apparent relationship to any of the other three. Though since there is only one medical clinic in town, they probably would have seen her in a professional capacity at some point.” Mulder set the fat sheaf of papers down and leaned back in his seat.

“Everyone was shocked about Chester and Rachel. Chester partied a little too hard some times, but most people found him likable. There was no reason for anyone to target Rachel.” Reynolds sighed. “Lisa only moved here five years ago after the divorce. She always kept a bit to herself, and I can't tell you much about her except she was never in any trouble.”

“What about Darren Redmond, know anything about him?” Mulder asked.

Reynolds hesitated before answering. “You know, if there was one of them that I would say maybe made some enemies, it would be him. But he was the third victim, and with the first two being so unalike that kind of connection didn't make sense.” 

“Wait, what did he do that would've made him enemies.” Scully sat forward in his seat, suddenly very aware of the change in Reynolds' demeanor. It was as if the police officer was worried she'd made a mistake.

“Darren was a good guy in a lot of ways. He graduated from high school here, went to community college over in Crowly, has always held down a job, taken care of his property, been involved in the town. But he had a falling out with Barker's church. His family went there when he was a kid, but when he move back here in his late twenties, he quit soon after – leaving the town, going to school changed him and his opinions a bit. He really disagreed with Barker on God's intentions concerning alphas and omegas. It came to a head at a church function where he actually got up on a table and started shouting exactly what he thought of Barker and his preaching. I don't go to that church, but when something like _that_ happens, everybody hears about it. And the thing is, more people were feeling sympathetic towards Darren than Barker. But as I said, there's no real connection between Darren and the other victims, so it seemed like his death was probably just coincidence.”

Mulder studied her carefully. “No, some people here thought it was a coincidence. You have suspicions, and that's why you wanted Scully to go to that church service. But if that's the case, why not just come out and say something?”

Reynolds' normally relaxed, open features were closed. “His congregation may be starting to have problems, but for a long time it was the biggest in town...don't think he doesn't have influence. You don't go poking around there without real good reason.” 

“OK, so we know Barker and some of his followers had a problem with Darren. The question is, do the other ones fit in somewhere. It might not be in an obvious way.” Mulder mused.

* * *

They soon found themselves back in the car and on their way to interview Dr. Brewer, the head of the local health clinic and Lisa Mallory's late boss. Scully was starting to have trouble focusing around Mulder, and he wasn't certain why. Well, he knew the mechanics of the 'why' – the complicated chemical responses that happened when an alpha was in close proximity to an omega in heat. However, Scully knew he shouldn't be as bothered by it as he was, not with Mulder on very effective suppressants. He wondered if something was making him oversensitive. With some effort, he shoved it all away and concentrated on the task ahead.

Scully was certain there was some kind of connection between the victims, and Reynolds' response concerning Darren and Barker had alarm bells ringing. “If Barker has as much influence as Reynolds was hinting at, I wonder if the local Sheriff called off that line of questioning.”

“That wouldn't surprise me in the slightest.” Mulder replied. “It might also be why they've been so unhappy to see us. As outsiders we have no reason not to go poking around Barker. Though, it doesn't sound like Barker has the entire town under his sway.”

“No, but if he has the local law enforcement, it would be enough to protect him.”

Doctor Brewer at least welcomed them warmly. “It was devastating to lose Lisa. It's not easy to attract people to move out here. But she wanted a change after the divorce, and she could afford a much nicer place in Shepherdsville. She was very well qualified, reliable, her patients liked and trusted her. She's going to be hard to replace,” he sighed.

“Did she ever have trouble with anyone?” Mulder asked.

Brewer shook his head. “Not that I know of. She was a quiet sort. She was particularly well liked by the alphas and omegas. I'm about as sensitive as a houseplant – I don't know what status the two of you have. And though I tried to keep up with new research, my knowledge was never what it should've been. Comes from living places with small populations. Lisa worked in a practice that saw a lot more people of different types and was just better prepared to deal with specific health issues. She was always big on proper education when it came to suppressants, birth control, and just teaching the youngsters how to deal with their situations safely. I guess there are some backwards folks that might've taken some exception to that.”

“Any one in particular?” Scully asked, feeling like at least one puzzle piece was starting to fall into place.

“I couldn't say for sure - just that I know this town, and there's a real conservative streak that comes from some of the church folks. Still, it's hard to see it escalating to murder. She never talked about feeling threatened, and she used to confide in me quite a bit.”

“If you think of anything else, this is where we can be reached.” Mulder gave the doctor their contact information at the motel.

“If there's a conflict of interest with the police department, I don't want Brewer going through them. I think Reynolds is OK, but someone's called her off Barker.” Mulder explained as they made their way back to the car.

“I agree. I just wish we knew how the other two victims fit.” Scully accidentally brushed against Mulder, and the other man jumped a little. Maybe this town had them both on edge.

Mulder quickly settled himself. “The best way to start would probably be their church affiliation. If they were part of Barker's flock...” his voice trailed off.

“Are you OK, Mulder? You seem a little distracted.”

“Oh yeah, I'm just a bit on edge I guess.”

Daylight was rapidly fading, and the temperature was dropping with it. Mulder switched the heat on in the car. “I don't remember seeing anything in the file about church attendance, but it shouldn't be too hard find out. If nothing else, their families would know. Do we have Rachel's address?”

Scully flipped through his notebook. “Yes, it's 102 Juniper. That's right off Main Street.”

Rachel's husband, Steve, seemed unsurprised to see them. “About time,” he commented as he stepped out onto the porch. “If you don't mind, I don't want the kids to have to hear about this. I don't know what the police are doing. Four people dead.” He lit a cigarette and stared off into the darkness.

“We're putting together background information on the victims in case there's some relation. What can you tell us about Rachel? Did she have a falling out with anybody? Problems at church?”

“Rachel was part of a homeschooling group, she didn't have any enemies. Who would want to hurt her? She was always kind, generous.” Steve rubbed his eyes. “She used to be really involved in the First Church of God – taught Sunday school and everything, but she didn't like the direction the church was going in. I can't say that I blame her either. Somewhere along the way it stopped being about helping your neighbors and more fire and brimstone. I would've been happy to leave before that, but we had a lot of friends there.”

“Was there any anger over the decision to leave?” Scully asked.

Steve shrugged. “I'm sure some people gossiped, but that's people.” He looked up and met Mulder's gaze. “Sir, I can tell you one thing for sure, that was no animal that's killed those people. Something bad's going on, and the police are doing a half-assed job of finding out what.”

“Yet Reynolds spoke highly of her boss.” Scully murmured as they drove back to the motel.

“She said he was a good officer and upset about what had happened. She didn't say he was doing an exceptional job of this case. I'm starting to think that there's a lot there between the lines that she's not directly saying.”

“Darren had a direct confrontation with Barker that resulted in loss of face for Barker. We know he preaches staying strictly within roles and is against the use of suppressants, and Lisa was working for the exact opposite. Rachel went from Sunday school teacher to up and leaving.” Scully listed off.

“I would bet money that Chester has some connection too.”

They reached the motel, but when Scully closed the motel room door behind them, he promptly wished he hadn't. He was suddenly hyper aware of the close proximity of his partner, of his scent and current state. Scully stood with his back turned for a long minute, concentrating on his breathing as a way of shooing away the thoughts and urges. This wasn't right. Scully had always been highly sensitive to the omegas around him, but he had learned from a young age how to control himself and block out the chemical signals. _What was wrong with him?_

He turned back around slowly to where Mulder had seated himself on the bed and was flipping through the notes they had taken on the 1952 killings. He tapped one foot restlessly and seemed a bit tense, but there was no other outward signs of distress. “We know one of the victims from 1952 wasn't popular with some of the local churches at the time. I think it would be worth finding out who had the most influence then. Right now it's Barker, though that's being threatened.”

“Feeling threatened could drive someone to murder. I'm sure the cultural changes happening in '52 could have had a similar effect.” Scully sat down on his bed across from Mulder, trying desperately to ignore how delicious he smelled.

“I was thinking the same thing. He could have learned about this thing from whoever orchestrated the earlier murders, and then decided to take advantage of it when the land was disturbed by the new construction.” He shifted uneasily. “I'll be right back.”

* * *

Mulder closed and locked the bathroom door and then spent a long moment leaning over the sink, taking deep steadying breaths. This wasn't right. He knew the symptoms, and he shouldn't be having them. There were three things that made therophil the most widely used suppressant on the market. One, it was reliable. If it worked for you, then it worked and wasn't going to suddenly stop working. Two, most of the population could tolerate it well with a minimum of side effects. And lastly, it rarely conflicted with other medications.

Yet despite all of this, the symptoms of his heat cycle were rapidly breaking through – the difficulty thinking clearly, the oversensitive skin, the hypersensitivity to Scully's alpha scent, the terrible gnawing need that would eventually blot out everything else. It was as if he had never taken his pill that morning. Except that he specifically remembered doing so. A wave of anxiety passed through him as he felt his control ebbing away under the onslaught of chemical reactions taking place in his body. He turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto his face, which somewhat revived him. His entire body felt overheated, and he let the cool stream run over the insides of his wrists as well. It also helped that Scully was not in this room, nor did the bathroom contain much of his scent.

Still, he had to go back out, had to talk to Scully so they could figure out a way around this. Feeling slightly more up to the task, he carefully opened the door and stepped out, but didn't move much more into the room. He needed to keep his distance even if his body was screaming at him to embrace Scully. _Scully can fix everything._ His body cooed to him. _He's everything you need right now._ He tried his best to ignore it.

“Uh, Scully, I think we have a problem.” If that wasn't the understatement of the year...

Scully turned slowly to face him, his back against the opposite wall. “I know, Mulder.” He closed his eyes and focused inward for a few long moments. “This shouldn't be happening. I saw you take your pill this morning.”

“I've been using therophil for ten years, and never once had a problem.” Mulder replied somewhat desperately. He could feel himself start to shake, and his posture turned from straight to hunched over as he attempted to fight off his natural instincts to seek physical release with a mate.

“Could someone have slipped you something? There are some things that will impair its effectiveness.” Scully's blue eyes were dark with lust.

“That would make sense given the circumstances.” Mulder slid down the wall until he was crouching on the floor, all of his attention turned inward. He also knew that if he moved towards Scully, or even made too much eye contact, it would all be over.

“I don't...want to leave you alone here in your present state, but I-I can't...” Scully took a deep breath through his mouth. “Grab a blanket, lock yourself in the bathroom. I'm sorry.”

Mulder nodded. What was left of his reason knew that Scully was right. He reached out a trembling hand and pulled the bedspread off the bed and slowly retreated. It was one of the most difficult things he had to do, to retreat from his mate, no potential mate, no friend and colleague, he had to correct himself. Everything was becoming blurred. Somehow he managed to shut himself in, lock the door and collapse, balled up, on the cool tile floor.

* * *

Despite the chilly temperature outside, Scully quickly moved to crack the window, the cold air chasing away some of Mulder's scent. He gulped down the fresh air, feeling guilty, not wanting his partner to spend the night shut up in the bathroom. But he also knew Mulder was going to be in a far worse state than himself, and Scully wanted to make sure he stayed put. As the fresh air helped clear his head, he began to really think this through. There was no way the therophil would just stop working. It was also highly unlikely that Mulder would have used them improperly. He never would have been able to get where he was educationally and professionally if he wasn't scrupulously careful with his medication. That left outside interference. He could have been slipped something. The whole thing could've been planned as soon as it became obvious that the two FBI agents were alpha and omega. Wasserman, the Sheriff, and Barker all picked up immediately on the fact that Mulder was in heat, and that was all before they had even checked into the motel.

What was the point? To discredit them – the out of control alpha and omega? As revenge for poking around? To make a point about their 'proper places' in life? Scully's thoughts kept wanting to drift back to Mulder, and he desperately fought down his arousal. He considered briefly just taking care of things, but he didn't want to add more scent to the room, and he felt horribly guilty about using his partner as a masturbatory fantasy. Instead he closed his eyes and counted his breaths, briefly noting his thoughts and physical reactions and then promptly letting them go to return to his breathing.

This was going to be a very very long night.

* * *

Scully had slept poorly, and dawn found the man sitting outside the door of the motel room wrapped in his jacket. Thankfully Mulder had stayed put, and as long as he wasn't in the room with Scully, Scully could keep himself in check. It was just _very_ uncomfortable. If they could figure out who might have engineered this – there simply was no other explanation – they could be slapped with sexual assault charges.

The door beside him suddenly cracked open and Mulder stuck his head out. “Hey, is it safe to show my face?” he joked, though his voice sounded tired.

Scully turned to look up at him, scenting the air. “It should be fine – especially outside.”

Mulder disappeared for a moment then the door opened and he stepped back out wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, hair damp from a shower. _He must have used the body wash._ Scully briefly thought. He sat down on the other side of the doorway and leaned back against the wall looking shaken and worn.

“Someone slipped you something. That's the only reasonable explanation.”

“I know.” Mulder replied wearily. “But you'll have a hard time proving it.” He closed his eyes.

“I'm sorry you got stuck in the bathroom. It seemed like the safest option.”

Mulder simply nodded. “It's OK, you were right. I don't like that someone decided to incapacitate us. I'm sure there's a connection to Barker or some members of the congregation, but we don't have enough to prove it. This also doesn't explain how they were killed – just that someone put the victims in harms way. We should go back out to the woods without the local law enforcement this time. I think we can trust Reynolds, but if she was withholding information, then that suggests someone could get to her.”

The morning sky was cloudless for the first time on their trip. Scully breathed in deeply and decided he could handle Mulder's pheromones. “OK. I don't think you and I should be a problem at this point – especially if we're outside. But we're rolling the windows down in the car.”

Mulder smiled at that. “No time like the present.”

They followed the path Reynolds had taken Mulder the day before. With the help of the map and the ravine and construction site as landmarks, it wasn't hard to find the most recent crime scene. “I'm starting to wonder just how thorough the reports they gave us were.” Mulder said. If he stood facing the construction site, the ravine ran at an angle to his left. He walked carefully that way, eyes low to the ground, searching for any sign of tracks. He stopped near the edge and just stood. Despite the cheerful sunny, brisk fall morning, the area felt... uncomfortable. It was also a little too quiet. The birds and small animals they had heard at the beginning of their walk were all silent now. He could see why people didn't like this area. It felt distinctly unwelcoming. He walked along the edge in the direction of the construction. He could distantly hear vehicles as work would be beginning soon. The leaves rustled behind and to the right of him as Scully looked around the area.

Suddenly a strip of something dark in the underbrush caught his eye. He crouched down for a better look – it appeared to be a hair tie. “Hey, Scully! I found somethi--” he stopped when he noticed something else farther ahead half hidden in debris.

“Scully!” He picked his way through the undergrowth as carefully as he could in order to disturb as little as possible. It was a fifth body. 

Scully appeared behind him, gently touching his arm. The scent of the alpha briefly washed over him, momentarily blotting out the smell of blood and disturbed earth before being blown away by the breeze. The body belonged to the late Tanya Reynolds.


	3. Full Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mulder and Scully move closer to unraveling the mystery, they increasingly put themselves in harm's way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, the end - of this particular story, at least. I'm enjoying this too much not to write more about these two.

“Body is a thirty one year old female, height five feet six inches, weight one hundred and thirty two pounds. Cause of death appears to be blood loss due to six slash wounds made by an unknown weapon or animal. Time of death most likely between midnight and three AM.” Scully spoke into the recorder. After all that had happened, he wasn't letting Wasserman anywhere near the body until he had the opportunity to make a thorough examination. This was his chance to figure out how the victims had ended up in the woods.

“There are no defensive wounds.” Mulder had stayed behind at the crime scene. Neither trusted the police, though Scully was suspecting that obstructionist behavior was due to fear of retribution. Reynolds had been a little too helpful. 

Reynolds had also been a healthy, fit young woman. It made no sense that she'd just stand there and allow herself to be slashed to bits. Yet there was no signs of struggle at the crime scene and no defensive wounds on the body. Scully began going over the body as carefully as he could. She had to have been incapacitated in some way, and considering that someone had managed slip Mulder something to counteract his medication, Scully wouldn't be at all surprised if Reynolds had been drugged. But ingested or injected? 

He collected samples for a tox screen despite Wasserman's assertions that there had been no sign that the previous victims had been drugged. 

“There is some bruising to the right shoulder and hip.” It appeared that she had fallen at some point. Ah, so it was injection. There was a tiny puncture wound almost hidden by the hairline on the neck. For someone to have succeeded in administering a drug without a struggle, she had to have known them, and trusted them in so far that she wasn't expecting them to actually try to kill her. 

So she was pumped full of something to make her compliant and drug out to the woods to make it look like an animal? Scully frowned. The wounds bothered him – they really _did_ appear to be an animal, but animals didn't really act like this. To kill everyone who wanders into the woods over a three month period of time, yet show no trace of it's passing? No scat, no fur, no tracks, no remains of prey? No reported missing pet cats and small dogs? Just...nothing. Like whatever it was didn't exist in between the time it killed. Scully had no doubt what Mulder would say, but he wasn't ready to make that kind of leap. It was definitely strange, though.

* * *

If something had killed Reynolds, there had to be some sign. The woods were big enough that one semiconscious or unconscious person could easily be missed by a prowling animal, yet without fail five people had been taken here and promptly killed. Clearly Barker or one of his cronies had figured that this was an efficient way to do away with troublesome people, and they had been right. Therefore, something had to have reliably drawn out whatever it was, and this must be the center of its activity. He moved slowly in an ever widening circle, finding no more than leaves that would have been disturbed when Reynolds had been brought here. Whoever had taken her had been careful to not leave foot prints, especially considering the recent weather. His path led him to the edge of the ravine on one side, and his circle became elliptical to avoid falling down the steep drop.

There was an easier way down into the space at one end where the gradient wasn't nearly as steep. It was choked with vegetation and didn't look like it had been disturbed by people. Despite the better weather, the ground was still slick in places and with the uneven footing, Mulder found himself nearly falling. He managed to catch himself at the last moment, but when he brought his hand up from the rock he had braced himself on, it came away sticky.

* * *

“Cow's blood.” Mulder told Scully who had just finished the autopsy. “A lot of it poured in one spot. I think that's how they're calling this thing up. It's the blood.” He stood a little farther away than he normally would have seeing that they were in an enclosed space, and Mulder's pheromone levels were still higher than normal. 

“This seems awfully ritualistic and cult like for a fairly mainstream religious group.” Scully replied. He moved a bit farther back and looked away.

“It seems like they've been departing from the mainstream for awhile – besides, thinking god is on your side allows people to rationalize just about anything.”

“Still a lot doesn't add up – this, whatever it is, isn't behaving like a normal animal. Besides, animals are unpredictable, and five people have been very predictably killed.” Scully pushed his red hair back from his face.

“I really don't think this is an animal, Scully. Maybe some spirit that's tied to this area...”

Scully made an exasperated sound. “Mulder, think logically about this.”

“I am, Scully. You said it yourself – it doesn't behave like a normal animal. There's certainly no physical sign of it aside from five dead bodies who have been clawed to death and then just left there. Besides, whatever _it_ happens to be, we still need to link it to the human part of the equation, and I would bet anything that they're connected to Barker's church.” 

“And no one found anything?”

“A few partial foot prints and a stray fiber that could have come from anywhere, but it's unlikely that they'll be able to get much from them. They were being very careful. It doesn't help that people are afraid of the woods and won't go near there at night, so there are no witnesses either. I'm pretty sure I know the reason someone tried to mess with my medication. It was to keep the two of us tied up long enough for the murder to happen _and_ have the locals be the first on the scene. Whoever did this didn't actually take into account that we aren't mindless animals, and they didn't get the time they thought they would.”

“I won't disagree with you there.” 

“The Sheriff's reaction was interesting too – he was definitely surprised to see us, but he didn't seem so unhappy about it. I wonder if Reynolds' murder was the last straw for him. I don't think he's going to exactly come clean, not if he's scared. But I don't think we're going to be getting as much trouble from him either.”

Scully stood looking thoughtful. “Whoever it is must be feeling desperate if they'd go so far as to actually have a police officer murdered, and with us here too. If nothing else, having the connections to the church that we have, I think we can at least go talk to Barker.”

“If you don't mind, Scully, I think I'd like to be the one to do so. He'll see me as less threatening and might get careless. Even if he didn't have a direct hand in this, I have a hard time believing he doesn't know what's going on.”

Scully hesitated. He knew Mulder made a good point – knowing how Barker felt about gender and sex roles, he _would_ see Mulder as fairly non threatening. In his eyes, Mulder would just be an omega doing a job he was ill suited for and in over his head. That couldn't be farther from the truth, but Barker had a hell of a set of blinders on. Still, Scully didn't like the idea of Mulder going alone, but he couldn't tell whether or not that impulse was down to his instincts till acting up and demanding he protect his 'mate.'

Finally he nodded. “All right. I'm going to try and find out more about where the balance of power lay here back at the time of the 1952 murders and see what I can find out about Chester. Maybe the Sheriff will be more inclined to talk to me. Just...be careful.”

* * *

Mulder paused before entering the spruce little church, feeling like he was about to step into enemy territory. He had no idea how Barker was going to respond to him – be dismissive? Have the same patronizing attitude he showed the other day? Or would he begin to see Mulder as a potential threat? He walked into the building, dim inside, though through the door to the sanctuary he could see the colored patterns the stained glass made on the floor. It smelt of old wood, wax, and dust, not at all unpleasant. There was a woman sweeping the floor and putting things to rights, and he caught her attention.

“Excuse me ma'am, do you know where I can find Mr. Barker?” 

The older woman looked up. “He'll be in the office down the hall from where you came in.” There was nothing unfriendly in her voice or demeanor, just curiosity.

“Thank you,” he replied with a smile. 

The office door was open, and Mulder could see Barker seated behind a computer screen tapping slowly on the keyboard. He knocked on the door frame. “Mr. Barker, if I could have a moment?”

Barker looked up. “Come on in. Just working on next week's sermon. Sadly, I've never been a fast one the keyboard.”

Mulder pulled up the chair that sat in the corner of the little room and sat down.

“I'm sorry to hear about Tanya Reynolds.” Barker began.

“Already? News travels that fast?” In actuality, knowing the size of the town, it was possible that Barker had heard about the murder already. On the other hand, he could also have been involved.

Barker shrugged, giving nothing away in his expression. “Word travels fast around here. I took a walk this morning and happened to run into one of the police officers. I'm not sure how I can be of any help, though.”

“Perhaps not with Tanya Reynolds, but I noticed that several of the other victims had ties to this church. You probably know what's going on in your own congregation. Maybe you can tell me a little bit more about them. I know Darren and Rachel used to be members here.”

“Oh yes, sadly they decided they would be better served elsewhere. Rachel was a good woman, very active.”

“And what about Darren. I heard his exit wasn't so quiet.” Mulder studied Barker carefully. The man shifted slightly in his seat, his mouth tightened a bit, but those were the only signs he gave of disquiet.

“Darren was an opinionated sort who lost his way.”

“Did Chester Owingsby go here by chance?” Mulder inquired.

“Not since he was a small child. Granted he could have done with a little God in his life. That man was nothing but trouble, and trouble will catch up with a man eventually.”

“I know Lisa Mallory wasn't a member here, though she stood for a lot of things you are against – the use of suppressants, birth control, and comprehensive sex education. Funny how all the people winding up dead have a problem with this church. Except Reynolds, so far as I know. Then again, she was helping us.”

“Agent Mulder, just what are you implying?” Barker's voice had a thread of steel in it now. It was clear that Mulder had struck a nerve.

“Just that the only thing any of the victims had in common was running afoul of what you preach.”

“Is this about the other day?” Barker asked, his voice covered with it's usual veneer of calm. “Are you harboring ill will, because I called your path into question?”

“Not at all, Mr. Barker. If I took into account the opinions and advice of every small minded person who spoke to me, I would never have gone anywhere and done anything. I took your 'advice' the same way I took the rest.” 

“That is the problem with the world outside, it got to poor Darren, Rachel, and Lisa, though I never knew her well. It fills you up with all these ideas, but that's all they are – as substantial as clouds. When you fight God's purpose, you fight who you really are. Is that anyway to live?”

“We are more than our sex roles. Don't get me wrong, natural instincts can be powerful, and most people whether they're betas, alphas or omegas are influenced by them to some degree. But we're more than just the sum of our biological processes. I'm no less capable than you are or my partner, Agent Scully, I just have something extra to deal with, but then everyone has their difficulties. I'm sorry you can't see that, Mr. Barker.”

“It isn't just what I believe, son, it's what God decrees.” Barker finally said, his voice even, his eyes unreadable.

“No, it's what you think God decrees. We don't live in biblical times anymore. The needs of humanity have changed along with lower infant mortality rates, and improvement in medicine and sanitation. The world has changed, Mr. Barker, and no matter how much change might scare you, no matter how hard you try and stop it, it will keep on coming. It's the one thing you can count on besides death and taxes.”

“Excuse me, boy -”

“Mr. Barker, I haven't been a boy for a long time, and I'm here in an official capacity. You should remember that. It's not just God's authority you have to answer to. Where were you last night?”

Barker no longer looked the kindly gentleman. “Home with my wife, Julia.”

“The entire night?”

“Yes,” he spat, “the entire night. I don't like what your suggesting here. What right do you have to come in here and question me, a man of god--”

“I have every right to ask questions. It's my job to ask questions.” Mulder retorted, feeling more annoyed by the minute. He was certain Barker was involved, it was just a matter of finding out how.

“This is not your job, son.”

“I believe I've taken up enough of your time for now. Don't leave town.”

* * *

“I know he's involved in some way. Someone needs to find out if any of the officers did actually talk to Barker about finding Reynolds' body. If no one did, then we'll know for a fact he's lying. He said he was at home with his wife last night, but she'll be likely to protect him. Did you find anything, Scully?”

“Yes. Barker's grandfather was minister of the same church in 1952. One victim worked in the local pharmacy, and while I couldn't find anything specific, I doubt it's a coincidence he would up dead at a time when people were up in arms over new medications aimed at omegas. The church at that time was waging a crusade against suppressants, because they were encouraging people to stray from God's intended purpose. They weren't the only ones in the town to feel that way, but they seemed to be the loudest. Oh, and another victim was a high school counselor.”

“Barker must have known about the woods from his grandfather.”

“Perhaps,” Scully replied cautiously, “but we still don't know what it is that's actually killing them.”

“We need to search the church and Barker's home.”

“I hate to say it, but I don't think we have enough evidence to do so,” Scully sighed. He agreed with Mulder on that much, but wasn't sure how easy it was going to be to obtain a search warrant.

“Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, if I could have a minute.” Sheriff Lunberg interrupted. He was very different from the hostile man they had first met, he looked tired and defeated. “If you could step into my office.”

He shut the door behind them before looking around cautiously. “Look, I'm sorry that I wasn't very helpful when you two showed up. You have to understand I have a wife and kids. If it were just me, well, maybe things would've been different. But I'd do anything to protect my kids.”

“Did someone threaten you?” Mulder asked.

Lunberg sighed. “I'm sure by now you've noticed that all the victims connect to Barker's church except Reynolds. Reynolds is what happens if you go against Barker. It was like that with his grandfather back in the 1950's. The town went through upheaval, the church felt threatened, and people started dying mysteriously. No one could ever make a strong enough connection to pin the blame on him, but people knew what was going on. Now it's happening again. When it first began, we looked around, knew we would have a hard time pinning it on anyone unless they got sloppy, and hoped it would all end quick. I mean, you can't prove that a person made those wounds.”

“True, but someone brought the victims out there.” Scully pointed out.

“Yes, but you've seen how careful they've been. Then a few of my officers started having strange things happen – hang up calls in the middle of the night. They were all traced to pay phones, but no one reported seeing anyone. Someone's dog disappeared, my little girl brought home a letter saying the monster in the woods was going to 'eat her up' if her daddy wasn't careful.”

“And no one could figure out who was doing this?” Mulder sounded somewhat incredulous.

Lunberg just shrugged. “Nope. I mean, we all knew it was coming from the church, but without evidence? I mean we had four dead people and nobody we could bring in as a suspect. So what's to stop them from grabbing someone's kid and feeding it to whatever is out there in those woods? That's not natural either, but who's going to listen to that?”

“But you're telling us now.” 

“Reynolds' death proved that none of us are safe. We can't live like this. We figured Barker was cleaning house, but this shows no signs of stopping. Unfortunately, I can't help you much. You'll never get a warrant without better evidence, and there's no telling when the next killing will happen.”

* * *

“What do we do, Scully?” Mulder asked, pulling his coat more tightly about him. The lights along Main Street were coming on, and the air was growing colder. “To get evidence against Barker, we need to search his house and church, but we can't do that without evidence against Barker.”

“The fact that all the victims have some kind of tie to the church or have garnered Barker's disapproval in some way is a start.” Scully was cut off by the appearance of one of the deputies.

“I spoke to everyone, and no one saw or said anything to Barker about finding Reynolds in the woods.”

“So he did finally make a slip,” Mulder said, looking more cheerful. “He had knowledge he shouldn't have about the most recent death, and all the victims are tied to the church. That should be enough. Finally we're getting somewhere.”

* * *

“We will have our search warrant, but not till tomorrow morning,” Scully sighed. “In the meantime they have an officer discreetly staking out the church in case he comes in and tries to remove would be evidence. Though, so far he seems pretty confident. I don't think he'd be expecting this.”

“I don't know, Scully. I asked him about his whereabouts on the night of Reynolds' murder. If I were him, I'd be covering my tracks right now.”

“Yes, but you're not an egotistical religious zealot,” Scully pointed out.

“Aw Scully, how sweet of you to say.” 

With nothing left for them to do until morning, Scully sat himself down on the motel room bed and began taking down notes. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he only half registered Mulder telling him he was running out to the car to grab his reading glasses.

“Uhmm.” Scully responded, deep in thought. It wasn't until nearly twenty minutes had gone by that he realized Mulder had never come back. He pushed down a surge of alarm, stuffed his feet into his shoes, grabbed his gun and cautiously walked outside. The car was there, but there was no sign of his partner. He walked over, alert to his surroundings. The car door was unlocked, and something metal glinted on the ground in the outside lights. It turned out to be the car keys.

* * *

“We have a problem.” Scully announced as he burst into the police station. There was currently one officer there on duty, and he looked up in alarm. “Mulder's gone. He stepped outside to grab something out of the car and didn't come back. The car's still there, but the keys were on the ground. Considering what happened to Reynolds...”

The officer looked pale. “You think he might've been grabbed? I'll get the Sheriff on the phone.”

There was no other explanation, no other place he could have gone – not without the car, and he wouldn't have left the car door unlocked and the keys on the ground next to it. _If Barker orchestrated this, he must have finally snapped. There's no way he can get away with kidnapping a federal agent. Unless he was trying to find a way to draw the investigation away from him. Their manpower is limited, in order to search for Mulder, they'd have to pull in the people watching the house and church._

It didn't take long to form a search party, and it was clear that everyone was taking this seriously. One officer Scully hadn't met cleared his throat. “You, ah, you're an alpha...can't you follow his scent?”

Scully just stared at him for a moment. “No, I can't just sniff him out! I can smell him if we're in close proximity or if it's a room he's spent a lot of time in. I can't follow his trail, I'm not a blood hound. It doesn't work like that.” Worry and disbelief warred for a moment. _How could anyone actually believe something like that?_

The police officer had the good grace to at least look abashed.

“But I have a pretty good idea where he'll be taken.” Scully said, his lips pressed into a thin line.

* * *

Consciousness returned in ebbs and flows, beginning when he was unceremoniously stuffed in a trunk. Though basically awake, whatever they had given him had left him uncoordinated, dizzy, and unable to think quickly. He tried to move his arm, but it took monumental effort to even slide it a few inches. The car jounced over a pothole, an uncomfortable experience, but one that helped draw Mulder back to some sort of wakefulness. He knew dimly where he was most likely being taken, but his head felt like it was stuffed with too much cotton to figure a way out of it.

Soon the vehicle came to a halt, which was some relief after the bumpy ride. But at the same time it meant that whatever they were going to do to him, they were going to do. _I suppose I'll find out first hand what that thing is._ He thought muzzily as the trunk was opened. He feigned unconsciousness lest they decide to dose him again, and besides, it was much harder to carry dead weight. Mulder wasn't about to make this easy for them. He hoped Scully had figured out what had happened, but he had no idea how much time had even passed. 

He was pulled unceremoniously from the trunk. He was gradually feeling more alert, though he didn't think he'd be able to move far on his own. It wasn't hard to let his muscles relax – they wanted to do that on their own, and he was rewarded by the struggling of the two men who were attempting to move him.

“I guess you did give him enough.” One man grunted. Mulder was unable to identify the voice.

“He's an omega, shouldn't take as much. Don't want to kill him from a drug overdose. The thing out there doesn't like dead meat,” Voice number two replied as he grabbed Mulder by the ankles. 

In a different situation he might have been amused by the utter stupidity of their dosing. Omega or not, Mulder was not a small man, and he was constitutionally sound. Some people were clearly not cut out for a life of crime. Voice number one held him about the chest. He could hear the crackle of undergrowth and leaves brushed against his face.

“You gave him too much. If we have to walk him all the way up here, we'll end up leaving tracks.” Voice number one complained softly.

“We're going around this way. We don't need them finding the body so fast. Better not at all, and Barker ain't here to call the thing up. He's stuck with a cop outside his house.” They came to a halt. Mulder risked cracking his eyes, but he couldn't see much. It was night time in a place with little light pollution. It was well and truly dark.

“OK, we'll just chuck him in. The thing'll find him. We'll have to walk the long way back to avoid any mud.”

“I still don't know if I like this. He's from the government. They'll care if he goes missing.” Voice number one sounded decidedly unhappy.

“It's not like there's a murder weapon, come on.” 

As he was lifted up a little higher, instinct set in, and Mulder tried to struggle, but his limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated.

“Good bye, Mr. FBI.” 

For a moment the world dropped away and then Mulder was bouncing down along a steep incline. He fuzzily knew what happened – they had thrown him directly into the ravine expecting whatever was lurking there to finish him off. _Or I could die of exposure._ The thought drifted through Mulder's head as he hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Everything was cold and quiet. He could feel the damp beginning to seep through his pants leg, and his right arm hurt from where it was pinned awkwardly between his side and the ground. 

He just lay still for a few moments trying catch his breath and gather himself together. This was not a safe place to be. Mulder knew he'd never be able to climb up the steep sides, but somewhere behind him was the gentler grade at the mouth of the ravine. He tried to move and slowly succeeded in rolling onto his belly and pushing himself up on his elbows. His head thumped painfully, and everything spun when he tried to look up. He tried to bring one knee up under himself, but it took so much effort that all he could do was rest balled up. Between the drugs in his system, the fall, and the struggle, he felt completely wrung out, and worse, sleepy. Whatever happened, he couldn't go under again.

It was very quiet here, but he no longer had the wherewithal to distinguish if it felt ominous or not. He strained his ears and thought he heard sounds in the distance. He tried to yell, but barely anything came out. He slowly drew his other leg under him hoping to crawl out, but his consciousness was starting to lapse again.

He had begun to drift without realizing it when a sudden sound caused him to jerk. This one wasn't distant. He attempted to move again, but didn't succeed in getting far. He heard it again, closer this time. He turned his head to try and at least see what it was. At first he couldn't make out anything, but then he saw a patch of darker black, like a hole had been punched out of the surrounding darkness that was void of all light. It seemed to be coming closer. He blinked and tried to focus better. It seemed large, at least as big as a good sized human male, but it remained indistinct. He curled into a tighter ball in a pitiful attempt to protect himself from what had obviously killed five other people. Leaves rustled, he thought he heard breathing, or maybe it was the wind. No, no wind, everything was still. There was a coldness that passed over him, far colder than the early November night air.

He tensed and opened his eyes again, but all he could see was a big black shape. He was certain it was standing over him. He waited for the blow, the feeling of being slashed open, but it never came. Instead, he clearly heard voices shouting his name. There was another rustle of leaves and the sense of another presence was gone. He tried to call out, desperation making his voice stronger. He collapsed back onto his side, utterly spent. 

He must have lapsed into unconsciousness again, because the next thing he was aware of was warm hands on his face and Scully's distinctive scent. “Mulder, can you hear me?”

“Arumph.” His tongue did not appear to be working properly. 

Fingers pressed against his neck. “You're OK, you're OK,” the smaller man repeated softly. “We're down here!” Mulder tried to move his head as Scully tried to peel back his eyelids-the light from the flashlight was painful. “I'm sure he's been drugged.” Mulder was half aware of being lifted, and then nothing.

* * *

Mulder opened his eyes and blinked at the brightness. He had a moment of alarm when he didn't remember where he was, but it soon passed when he realized he was obviously in a hospital bed. He turned his head and smiled. Scully was dozing in a chair next to the bed. Somewhere along the way he had lost his jacket, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the throat. He had a hospital blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his head tilted slightly to one side. He had what appeared to be a leaf stuck in his hair.

He tried to reach out and gently tap Scully on the knee, but his movements were still awkward and clumsy, so the gesture turned out to be more of a thump. Scully jerked awake. “You're awake. How do you feel?”

“OK, a little groggy. What happened with Barker?”

“We caught one of the men who decided to throw you into the ravine. Turns out he's Barker's nephew. He's pretty eager to talk. It looks like Barker was trying to destroy some evidence – papers and what looks like a journal, but it's almost impossible to read any of it now. We did find a jar of cow's blood and a vial that's being tested. We think it contains the drug they'd been using to knock out their victims.”

“But the thing in the woods – I saw it, not clearly, but there was something there. It was larger than me and black to the point that it stood out even though it was dark. It felt cold when it came close. I don't know why it didn't kill me. Maybe it heard you coming.”

Scully gently rested a hand on his forehead. “Mulder, when we found you, you were heavily drugged and barely conscious. There may not have been anything there.”

“I wasn't unconscious the entire time. I know what I saw and felt,” he protested while Scully regarded him with a sympathetic expression.

“There was no sign of any animal.” His thumb caressed Mulder's skin in a soothing motion.

“That's because it wasn't an animal. You have a leaf.” He pointed to Scully's hair. He removed his hand from Mulder's forehead and brushed it out. “How long have you been here?”

“I came with you, and then left to oversee the search of Barker's house. I came back here about two hours ago.” He looked at the blanket that was wrapped around him. “I don't even remember them giving me this. Must have been asleep. They're convinced you're my mate and won't believe otherwise, but they've been very kind.”

Mulder laughed softly.“Whoever injected me screwed up the dose. He thought being an omega and small and weak that it wouldn't take as much. They didn't realize I was conscious a good bit of the time and overheard what they said to each other. If they had given you what they thought it would take to knock out an alpha, you would have OD'd.”

Scully sighed. “Why doesn't that surprise me.”

The man looked exhausted. Mulder scooted over and curled up on his side. “Come here.” He patted the bed next to him. Not that it was large, but they could both fit if they didn't mind being friendly.

Scully looked at him uncomprehendingly. “You look like you're about to fall off that chair. They think we're together anyway, so it's not like anyone's going to say anything or be surprised.” He paused, his mouth quirking up at the corners. “Unless my wonderful scent is too much for you.” At this point, his heat cycle had passed it's peak and was tapering off. The doctor would have seen that he was medicated anyway for the sake of everyone who would have to deal with him.

Scully just gave him a look. He hesitated for a moment, then slid off his shoes and climbed up beside his partner.

“You know, if what almost happened had happened the other night, it wouldn't have been terrible.”

Scully just looked at him, a little surprised. 

“I mean, not that I want my medication to stop working because some fanatical jack ass decided he wanted to make a point and screw up the investigation. But, there's much worse people to be knotted by.”

“Um, thanks...I think?” 

“No, I mean it. There are some real jerks out there.”

“OK, Mulder.” Scully stifled a yawn, closed his eyes and was promptly asleep.

* * *

“Now that they know what to look for, they can exhume the bodies and find the needle marks. There's no way Barker is getting out of this – not with his nephew testifying against him.” They were back in the car headed out of Shepherdsville, a town that neither man wanted to see again.

“I can't believe they're going to try and say a man made those wounds.” Mulder switched on the wipers, it was raining again. 

“Mulder, there's no other explanation that makes sense. By going through the fake ritual of calling something up, and the bodies being found mutilated, he created fear of the supernatural that would help him hold sway over his congregation. People have been all through the woods and ravine, and there's no sign of an animal that could have done this. Sometimes the real monsters are people.”

“I won't argue with you there. Do you know you're cute when you sleep?”

Scully shot him an exasperated look. “Mulder, is that necessary?”

“Absolutely. You had the nurses cooing over you.”

“Mulder, just -”

“Really.”

“Mulder!”

“Oh, alright.”


End file.
